


Burnt Ashes

by nightsofsilver



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Death, M/M, Minor Violence, Pain, Panic, Supernatural Elements, Suspense, Temporary Amnesia, needles (one needle)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24658210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightsofsilver/pseuds/nightsofsilver
Summary: Sometimes precious things are left behind, and end up returning to you when you least expect it.
Relationships: Lee Jihoon | Woozi/Lee Seokmin | DK
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Burnt Ashes

Jihoon wakes up to darkness and a dull ache beginning to bloom in the back of his skull. He takes a deep breath in, coughing as he inhales musty air that smells alot like dirt and rotten plants. He tries to move his arms but they feel oddly numb and only shift an inch or two before running into something smooth and solid. 

He kicks his feet up and they meet resistance on all sides as well. He frowns, then relaxes back into whatever he is laying on. There is honestly no rush, he has nowhere he needs to be right now. So he waits for something to happen, for the darkness to fade or for this dream to end. 

He shifts back and forth again after a few minutes, or was it a few hours? He doesn’t know where he is, but he kind of wants to get up now. He isn’t all that hungry, but he is _thirsty_. Just the thought of a cold glass of water has the dry pain in his throat flaring up again. He tries to remember if he had had anything to drink before going to bed the night before, but his mind comes up blank. Then he tries to remember what he had for dinner, and he can’t remember that either. 

What _was_ the last thing he remembered doing? Jihoon suddenly tenses, letting out a strangled gasp as the ache in his head explodes into a fiery ball of pain and light behind his eyes. Cars, road, streetlights, headlights, screeching tires- 

Jihoon twists and turns as much as he can in the tiny space and just as suddenly as it had sprung to life the burning pain and the images flashing through his head stop. He holds himself cautiously, breathing a sigh of relief when the pain doesn't return. He presses his hands up again, frowning when they meet the same smooth surface a few inches above him. What was it, wood? Maybe he had fallen off the bed in the night and rolled underneath it, but surely Seokmin- 

Jihoon screams as the pain returns, accompanied by more images flashing through his head, too fast to comprehend. He flails his arms, trying to reach up to his head and stop the pain and one of his clenched fists breaks through the smooth surface above him, causing a cascade of _something_ to fall onto his lap. 

He is too caught up in the whirl storm that has overtaken his mind to focus on what is happening, but as he starts to break more of whatever is surrounding him, more and more of stuff starts to fall on top of him. He spits as some of it falls into his mouth, it tastes like dirt. 

The pounding in his head subsides enough for him to register what is happening and he feels panic seize him as more of the dirt falls around him. He surges upwards, fighting back the torrent or dirt with his hands and somehow managed to create enough space to where he can sit up. The space he has created is rapidly filling in and Jihoon fights even harder, rising unsteadily onto his knees. 

Something inside of him screams at him to go up and so he does, scratching and clawing as hard as he can into the space above him. His eyes are squeezed shut, but he feels his hands touch something wet and as he drives himself upward, everything around him turning damp and sticking to his skin. He struggles for a few minutes more, or a few hours, seemingly making progress and yet going nowhere. 

His hand suddenly breaks through and reaches out into an empty space. Rejuvenated at the thought of freedom Jihoon pushes upwards, his other hand and his head finally breaking free. He scrambles up and out of whatever he had been encased in and his vision is blurry from the dirt caked onto his face. 

His breath settles oddly in his lungs, doing nothing to calm the rushing noise in his ears that must be his pounding pulse. He blinks furiously, his vision starting to clear, and he vaguely registers grass under his hands. He collapses on his side and rolls onto his back, blinking in surprise as droplets of rain fall onto his face. He grins, he’s always loved the rain, ever since he was a- 

The pain returns and he cries out despite himself, hands coming up to cradle his temples. He forces himself to his feet and starts to move, hoping he can find someone to help him. He passes by rows of trees and flat white boxes pressed into the ground. A steering wheel, blood, blood on his hands, blood blood bloo-

He throws his head back and howls. The sky responds to his cries, the rain pouring down twice as hard onto him and lighting flashing across the sky. He looks to his left and sees a pair of flashing lights in the distance. Hunched over with his hands pressing into the sides of his head he trudges forward towards the lights. 

He nearly starts to cry when he sees the familiar shape of another person near the edge of the grassy field he had been trekking across. 

“Help!” he shouts, the words coming out strangled. 

He coughs, stumbling forward. It takes an eternity and a half for the figure in the distance to close the distance between them. Jihoon falls to his knees, reaching out a hand pleadingly towards his approaching savior. The pounding in his head fades a little and he sees the dark figure raises his hands up placatingly, edging closer. 

“Please,” Jihoon whimpers, “help me.” 

“I will,” they say, one hand drifting towards the belt fastened around their waist. Jihoon stiffens as he senses a presence to his right, glancing over to see another person approaching. He hears a shuffle to his left and whips his head to the side and sees a third person. He hisses, suddenly feeling trapped. “ _Danger_ ” his brain screams, “ _Run_ ”. 

He starts to stand to his feet but the person on his left runs forward, tackling him down. He screams, pushing the man away. A large weight slams down on the back of his head and he collapses to the ground, forced into unconsciousness. 

He wakes up in the back of a moving vehicle, the bright lights shining down onto his face nearly blinding him. They disappear and what looks to be a paramedic leans over him. 

“Sir? I need you to focus on me.” 

He glances to the side and sees one of the persons that had attacked him and he immediately tries to sit up, only to find himself restrained to the small bed he has been placed on. 

“Hey, it’s alright,” the paramedic says, “we’re only here to help. My name is Minju. I know everything is really overwhelming right now, but we are going to bring you somewhere safe and explain what is going on.” 

He wants to trust the paramedic, but he has no idea what’s happening to him or where he is going. 

“Where are you taking me?” 

The paramedic relaxes back into her seat by his side. 

“The hospital. You may have sustained some injuries and you’re probably hungry. We will contact your family or whoever you like once we arrive.” 

“Why am I restrained?” 

“We don’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself or move too much until we assess your condition.” 

Jihoon nods, trying his best to relax. There is obviously nothing much he can do at the moment. It doesn’t really look like what he imagined the back of an ambulance to be like, a pile of restraints in the corner on top of a minifridge, the person standing by his side, seemingly keeping guard, swaying slightly as the vehicle makes a slow turn. There is no iv hooked up to him, no heart monitor, it’s all just very strange. 

He tries to move his head to see what is behind him, but gives up when it’s obvious his body can’t move enough to allow him to do so. The paramedic reaches over and presses two fingers down on his wrist, writing something down on the notebook in her hands. 

“Can you tell me your name.” 

“Lee Jihoon. I’m 24, I live in Seoul, and I am currently attending Seoul University.” 

“Good, it’s nice to meet you Jihoon. Are you experiencing any pain or unusual symptoms?” 

“Not really, except for my head.” 

“Oh?” 

“It’s like I have a headache, but sometimes it flares up and it feels like someone set my brain on fire.” 

The paramedic jots something down again in her notes. 

“Those may be the symptoms of a concussion, I’ll be sure to let the doctors know.” 

Jihoon gives her a tight smile, “Thanks.” 

He’s never really heard of a concussion causing these kinds of symptoms, but what does he know? The person standing next to him shifts on their feet and the patch on the front of their jacket catches his eye. It’s colored a dark blue and has the words _Gowon_ and _V.P.A._ stitched into it in white. Blue. The blue walls of their bedroom, covered by pictures and paintings and- 

Jihoon thrashes back and forth on the bed, the pain is back but this time the images make sense, his old bike sitting in the corner of his parent’s garage, long thin hands that fit perfectly into his, Seungcheol’s laugh, an anguished voice calling out his name- 

His eyes snap open and he sees the person who had attacked him holding down his arms as the paramedic holds up a large needle. He panics even more, reaching out to try and bite the shoulder of the person holding him down out of desperation. They suddenly pull away, eyes wide in fear. 

Jihoon has time to question their reaction, one of the restraints around his wrist feels a little loose and he pulls on it as hard as he can. It breaks free just as the paramedic lowers the needle to his skin. He jerks his arm out of her grasp, knocking her backwards. He fumbles with the restraint on his other hand while the guard slams his fists on the back wall of the vehicle. A shot of dread courses through him as the vehicle starts to slow. 

The guard lunges at him, but Jihoon is quick to block their grasping hands. They stumble over something on the floor and land face first on Jihoon’s bed. He fumbles with the heavy piece of wood tied to their belt, tugging it free and slamming it onto the back of their head. They go limp and Jihoon sighs in relief. The paramedic is starting to get up on his right and hurries to free his legs, tossing the wood in his hand at the paramedic to buy him enough time to get to his feet. 

The vehicle has stopped by now and Jihoon knows he doesn’t have long before the two other guards are on him. He pushes against the doors with all his strength and the fly open, slamming against the sides of the vehicle. He jumps out, feet landing with a dull thud on the pavement, and runs down the street. He hears voices shouting after him and speeds up, everything blurring around him. He turns a corner, and then another, pausing at the end of a large intersection. 

Strangely, he doesn’t feel winded at all even though he can’t remember the last time he ran that fast. All the lights and sounds start to overwhelm him so he darts across a street and finds himself in a much quieter part of the city. He needs to find a phone, or someone who can help him hide out for a moment. He tiptoes towards the edge of a building and peers around the corner, squinting as he is again assaulted by a torrent of lights and sounds. 

A scent wafts through the air in front of him and immediately catches his attention. It’s warm, sweet, and a little familiar. Jihoon feels himself subconsciously relax, turning to follow the source of the scent. The lights and sounds hardly bother him anymore and he walks past the blurred crowds of people lining the sidewalks. The scent grows stronger, dipping in and out of several stores that line the street but continuing in a mostly straight path forward. 

He drifts through the crowded streets with ease, ignoring the stares he gets and finally stopping in front of a small restaurant on the corner of the street. The source of the _warm sweet soft home_ scent was close now and Jihoon pushed open the restaurant’s doors without a second thought. The host’s back is turned to him and Jihoon slips by soundlessly, making his way towards the back of the restaurant. Suddenly all he can see is Seokmin. 

Seokmin smiles and something deep inside Jihoon aches, it feels like it’s been so long since he’s seen him smile, though surely it has been hours at most. Jihoon shakes his head, stepping closer, it doesn’t matter, he’s found Seokmin and everything will be okay. Seokmin glances up and finally spots him and Jihoon smiles sheepishly. 

He doesn’t know how he’s going to explain what had happened to him or, as he looks down at himself, how he ruined a brand new suit. Why was he dressed in a suit? He looks up again and Seokmin’s expression is full of confusion, fear, and… pain? 

“Seokmin?” 

Seokmin drops the fork in his hand and it makes a loud clattering sound as it hits his plate. He’s made aware of someone sitting across from Seokmin as they turn to look at him. It’s a young man around Jihoon’s age, wearing a dark gray suit with his long hair pulled back tight into a bun. 

“Excuse me,” the man says, “but who are you?”

Jihoon blinks, returning his attention to Seokmin. 

“Seokmin, what’s going on?” 

Seokmin grips the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white as he finally speaks. 

“If this is supposed to be some sort of sick joke I don’t find it very funny.” 

“What are you talking about? Did I miss our anniversary? Someone’s birthday? Do we even know anyone born in March?” 

The man in the suit stands up, stepping in front of Jihoon. He smells weird, not bad, just… weird. 

“You must be confused little fledgling, it’s June 23rd.” 

Jihoon scowls, it’s definitely March. 

“Now run along before you get hurt,” the man says, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Jihoon hisses, surprised by the unnatural noise that comes out of his mouth. 

“I’m not going anywhere. I don’t mean to be rude but I have no idea who the hell you are and I’ve had a hell of a night so if you could just please step aside so I can talk to my boyfriend that would be great.” 

The man looks back at Seokmin. 

“Boyfriend?” 

Jihoon looks around the man at Seokmin, a wave of concern washing over him. 

“Babe, why are you crying?” 

Seokmin just shakes his head, more tears slipping down his cheeks. Jihoon tries to take a step forward but is stopped by a hand encircling his arm. 

“Stay back fledgling, you’ve just woken up and you don’t seem to be quite in control of yourself yet.” 

“Fuck you,” Jihoon says, ripping his arm from the man’s grip. 

The man sighs, looking towards a nearby server who is watching the scene fearfully. 

“Call the VPA, tell them there’s a newly awakened fledgling disturbing the peace.” 

Jihoon doesn’t quite understand what he is saying, but VPA sounds familiar. 

“Jeonghan, wait,” Seokmin says, standing to his feet. The man steps towards him in concern and a wave of possessiveness rises in Jihoon’s chest. 

“Stay away from him!” 

Jihoon feels his teeth prick his lower lip and as he runs his tongue over them he realizes they feel a little sharper than normal. He suddenly remembers VPA had been on the jacket of the group of people that had attacked him, was this man in league with them? Wait… what did VPA stand for again? 

Jihoon freezes as the answer to his query suddenly pops into his head. VPA stands for the Vampire Protection Agency, a national organization dedicated to the task of protecting new vampires and keeping the current population living in Korea in line according to the laws concerning their kind. Suddenly a whole lot of things start to come together in his head and he stumbles forward, falling to his knees. Suddenly, he _remembers_. 

There’s no pain this time, but it feels like Jihoon is reliving his last memory, turning into the intersection only to be blind sided by another car crashing into his, the moment of impact, the spinning lights, his body aching, and blood, blood everywhere. He howls, dropping to the floor. 

“Jihoon!” he hears Seokmin shout in the distance. He remembers everything and then it

all 

goes 

_black_.

**Author's Note:**

> This is something quick I wrote all in one day!  
> There is a bit of a more complicated au up in my head but I don't have the time or energy to write more of it unfortunately...  
> What I'm thinking is that basically Jihoon was killed in an accident and someone secretly tried to bring him back to life, but they were interrupted in the process and Jihoon was assumed dead. It takes three years for the process to complete and for Jihoon to free himself from his grave, memories temporarily lost because of the injuries he suffered and the turning process. He finds his way to Seokmin and all his memories come back. Now Seokmin is torn between the man he once loved and his new boyfriend Jeonghan who had helped him finally get over Jihoon's death while Jihoon deals with his new form and the realization that things are not exactly how he left them.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this suspenseful story just a little, and if you did, leave a kudo or a comment!
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/nightsofsilver)


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